Behind Closed Doors
by WildOrion
Summary: In which Aran is missing, Evan is amused, and Mercedes is less than pleased. One-shot.


**Behind Closed Doors**

Impossible.

"…level 10…"

The disbelieving words stumbled awkwardly from my mouth, rolling off the tip of my tongue—like a bad word—and past my parted lips.

"Level… 10."

Slowly—almost painfully so—the severity of the situation sank in and I stared blankly ahead, eyes unseeing as my already overworked brain attempted to play catch up.

Breathe, Mercedes, breathe. That's it, good girl. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

_Level 10._

Oh, dear Goddess… breathe!

"Level 10!"

Calm down, there's no need to throw a tantrum. You're not twenty years old anymore; such behavior is unbecoming of one of your status!

"Level 10! Level 10! **LEVEL 10!**"

My furious cries echoed loudly throughout the otherwise silent village, falling—thankfully—on deaf ears as my people slumbered, damned to centuries of sleep by the Black Mage's curse.

Releasing a tired sigh, I slumped to my knees before Elluel's entrance, a massive doorway ornately carved from the purest and whitest gold. Reaching out, I weakly grasped the cool metal, knitting my fingers through the gaps and holes of its intricate design. I was oddly comforted by the sealed entry, and yet…

As I knelt there, cushioned by the soft green grass, I felt very much like a child again; weak, helpless, with absolutely no control. How many times had I sat there before, in that very same exact spot, staring longingly out into a world that I was—until adulthood—forbidden from entering? As Elven royalty and heir to the throne, it had been my duty—and great honor, as I was so often reminded—to attend Elluel's academy and learn the way of the Elves, in preparation for my inevitable ascension to the throne.

But oh, still, how I had wished to see life beyond these walls…

I must admit, at night, while everyone else lay in bed, I would often sneak out of my chambers and, quieter than a mouse, creep along the path that led to the city's entrance. Dodging behind trees and bushes, I would wait until the very last street light had been extinguished, checking several times—and then even more times—that the coast was clear before scurrying over towards the gate.

Even to this day, I'm not entirely sure how or why, but even in the dead of night, there remained an unusual glow in the far distance. It cast but a sliver of light that ran across the lush forest floor, reaching far—almost to where it touched the foot of the closed gate—but never reaching far enough.

It was almost hypnotic, mesmerizing even, like a spell—as if time itself had frozen, trapping me in this hellish state of agitation, prohibiting me from moving on to tomorrow, where I was one step closer to the freedom I so badly desired…

Closing my eyes, I could still remember what it was like, gazing out into that single beam of light, my stare captivated. The light was never solid; it flickered, or more precisely, it _fluttered_, like a butterfly's wings, as if it was the only place where time still flowed—in the dark, beyond closed gates.

My eyes remained shut, staring out into the memory, staring… staring…

As I continued to stare, I could almost swear that I was starting to hear things. The plucking of a string… was that music? No, no… it was something else. But what? I could not, for the life of me, tell. It was one of those random sounds you heard in your ear, so quiet and faint that you didn't know if you were actually hearing something or if you were just going… crazy.

I could hear it in my _head_.

While still in school, the other children used to whisper behind my back—never to my face, for I was their future leader—that I was crazy, crazy for being so punctual and studious, and for always being the teacher's pet. They did not realize that it was all for duty—duty, I say! Crazy, hah! One day, I might just believe them. But today is not that day. I am _not_ crazy.

… I'm not!

Eventually, I opened my eyes and stood up, brushing the dirt from my clothes and shoving the memory away, far away, into a corner where it would no longer bother me…

I had more important things to think about now.

* * *

Disrespectful.

It was frustrating, really, seeing Evan with such a smug look on his face. The mischievous twinkle in his eye compelled me to take a deep, calming breath, and as maddening as it was, I was forced to remember that I was not to grind my teeth. It was a bad habit of mine, grinding my teeth, so I simply settled for locking my jaw and narrowing my eyes at the child.

It had been a few months since my return to the world, and in my travels to regain my lost power, I had run into Aran and this boy—Evan—who was Freud's successor. Joining their group, we banded together, training to become stronger and aiding those in need.

The three of us were currently in El Nath, sharing a two-bedroom suite at the local tavern while we trained on the lower leveled monsters that roamed the icy mountain paths. However, Aran, being the 'big bad Warrior' that he was, eventually took time away to train by himself, slinking off in the middle of the night to go and fight monsters in Ludibrium, with little more than a scribbled note saying he would return shortly.

_I'm going to train in the Clock Tower. Monsters here are too easy for me. I'll be back in a day or two. – Aran_

I crumpled the slip of paper, crushing it in my fist and chucking it at the door. Beside me, I could hear Evan attempt to stifle a giggle and I immediately rounded on him, fire in my eyes. You know the saying… hell hath no fury like an Elven Queen scorned! And oh, had I been scorned!

The brunette gasped in surprised fear and clamped a hand over his mouth, slowly backing up. Lunging forward, I grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him out of the room, ignorant of the fact—or rather, I didn't really care—that it was only one AM in the morning and that we were both donned in nothing but our sleepwear.

"W-where are we going?" he stuttered, stumbling along after me as I continued to pull him through the dim and empty hallway.

"The ink was still slightly wet, he can't have gotten far!" I snapped, furious that Aran had just up and left us in the middle of the night. It was fortunate that Evan had awoken to use the restroom and found the note; otherwise we wouldn't have known he was missing until morning! As we stomped—or rather _I _stomped; Evan just sort of… tripped—downstairs towards the dining area and entrance, I couldn't help but grind my teeth in anger, my grip on his arm tightening along with the clenching of my jaw.

It really _was_ a bad habit…

I blamed it on stress. Stress that—thanks to Evan's childish behavior and Aran's lone-wolf mentality—grew greater day by day. If those two were even _half_ as responsible and willing to cooperate as me, I wouldn't be continuously grinding my teeth down like sandpaper. It wouldn't do for an Elven Queen to have less than perfect teeth, and yet here I was, sanding them down into near, uniform perfection. It just wasn't _natural_.

Sometimes it was hard being a Queen. I don't wish to reflect badly on my people, nor do I ever wish to disappoint them—which I may or may not have already; I wonder if they mind living their lives through a dream these past few hundred years... anyway, disappointing my people terrified me almost as much as disappointing myself. I was too proud to be a disappointment...

"Why are we just standing here?"

Breaking away from my thoughts, I looked up and realized that we were standing in front of the tavern door with my hand still gripped tightly around Evan's wrist. Muttering an apology, I released him and opened the door, only to slam it shut a fraction of a second later. Damn it, it's cold outside!

"We're going back to the room," I stated, turning around and making my way back upstairs. "Change your clothes, grab your things. We'll leave the bill on the counter and you go get Mir from the stables. Aran is _not_ getting away that easily!"

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't, simply choosing to nod his head and follow after me. As we came upon the door to our room, I reached out to grab the handle, my hand meeting much resistance as I attempted to turn it. Eyes widening, I could feel my heart skip a beat—and then another—as I continued to twist the handle to no avail, shaking and rattling the door in my frustration.

Locked out.

My earlier resolve was quickly shredded to pieces, crushed and pulverized by the grinding of my teeth.

* * *

"… Never mind."

I remember, when I was younger, we were learning compound words one day in class. The teacher asked us, the children, if we could name any. Naturally, being as smart and talented as I was—as well as a good student, of course—I raised my hand to be called on. I was still struggling slightly to be accepted by my peers, wanting to be seen as something more than just the future Queen, so I was generous and left the easy ones to them, taking the fancier ones for myself.

Upstanding, upstage, overachieve… as I rambled on, the other children must have been so amazed by my great knowledge that none dared to speak. Yeah, that's right! _Bow down_ before my then-thirty-year-old genius! I do, however, recall someone mouthing 'showoff' while another whispered 'taskmaster.' Yes, those too were compound words…

… But then I reached _never mind_.

'Never mind' is _not_ a compound word and when the teacher told me so, I was so ashamed that I retreated to the far corner of the room and did not speak for the rest of the day. I had been humiliated, and dared not answer another question, for fear of being wrong again; for fear of being a disappointment.

"No, what is it. Tell me."

We were sitting on the floor in the middle of the hallway, our backs pressed up against the wall as we waited in front of our door. We had left the room key inside and it had locked shut behind us, resulting in us spending the night out here, in the dark and cold. We would have to wait until morning, when the staff had awakened, to borrow an extra key to get back inside.

Evan looked at me, seeming to contemplate his words before answering hesitantly, "Why were you so angry? With Aran, I mean. I know that it was a bit rude of him to just leave like that, but he did promise to come back. Why is it such a huge deal?"

I paused a moment, not entirely sure myself. Why _had_ I been so angry?

"Because it just is," I eventually replied, matter-of-factly. "We are a team, we work _together_. Him leaving, even if for just a few days, is like he's saying, 'I give up. I have better things to do.' I know he's frustrated, having to regain his powers and only just recently remembering his past, but so am I. I may have had my memory intact, but I too spent many years asleep, my power dwindling down until almost nothing remained. You don't see me leaving though, do you?"

"Oh…well, no…" He continued to look at me and I could tell that he wasn't quite sure what to say, so I went on.

"Aran has always been like this… even in the past, when we first joined together to fight the Black Mage," I said, sighing in reminiscence. "All he ever did was train. Train, train, train and then train some more! He's one of those guys that try to take the burden on by themselves. But I won't allow it. I didn't back then, and I won't now."

Truth be told, that wasn't the only reason for my anger. Aran had abandoned us, had abandoned _me_. Since I've been honest thus far, I suppose I'll just go ahead and say it. He was the only friend I had left in this world and I was scared of losing him again.

…

… Okay, yes. There was Athena Pierce _too_… if your childhood stalker counted anyway…

And Evan as well, I suppose, though I was only just starting to get to know him. But really, as sad and pathetic as it was, it was true. As a child, I had been somewhat ostracized for my status and intellect, and although it got better when I was an adult, I was only loved and admired for being the Queen. Ironically enough, it was only once I had joined the humans—who we fairies were known to look down upon—that I learned what it meant to have a real friend.

"Well… Aran got away and we're locked out," said Evan, and I could hear the tiredness behind his voice. "Maybe… maybe we should just call it a night and try to get some sleep. I mean, look on the bright side. Things could have been a lot worse… at least we weren't locked outside in the cold!"

I gave the boy a small smile for his efforts and patted his head gently, allowing him to lean himself against my shoulder and rest. He was, despite his status as Dragon Master, still a young child and in need of a good night's sleep. "Go ahead and close your eyes," I said, leaning further back against the wall. "I'm not tired. I was asleep for many years… I think I've slept enough."

I could see the worry etched into his features and insisted that I would be fine; that I didn't mind waiting alone. Truth was… I was very much afraid of being alone—ever since I was a small child myself and vying for my peers' acceptance—but my pride would not allow the fact to be made known.

"Okay, well… good night Mercedes," he finally said, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Good night Evan," I replied, facing the door to wait.

I would be downstairs the instant the staff had awoken; I refused to let Aran get away.

Failure was not an option. 'Never mind' was not answer.

* * *

Patience.

Patience was a virtue that I was not too fond of; not when I was growing up, and especially not now.

I could feel the right side of my face twitch as I stared loathingly at the wooden door, kicking out my leg and slamming my foot into it simply to relieve some of the tension. I'm very sure I could have broken it down with a few knocks from the shoulder, but I was a Queen—an Elven Queen at that—and was far too refined for such barbaric behavior.

Hmm…

I turned to the side and gave the slumbering Evan a cursory glance, eyeing his small form up and down before shaking my head and looking back towards the door. Without Mir, the boy was almost powerless and his small size had me worried that the door might break _him_ instead if he tried…

No. I would have to wait. Patience was not my strongest virtue, but it would have to do.

* * *

Back when I was still quite young—I hadn't even celebrated my fiftieth birthday yet—our class was assigned the task of removing a cluster of Slimes that had crossed the border and made themselves at home in the local nursery. Armed with my bow and arrows, I fought off every last gelatinous blob that I could find, continuing to hunt to them down even after my classmates had finished and the teacher called us in. I, being the careful and meticulous elf that I was, refused to go back inside the school house, insisting that there was one, last Slime to find.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew something was still out there, hiding amongst the plants and bushes. I could sense it, and for whatever reason, I needed to find it. I spent hours in the baking sun, licking my parched lips and eyes darting at every sign of movement. Occasionally, I'd fire off a random arrow, hoping to scare it out into the open… but nothing ever came.

Later that night, as I sat in front of Elluel's entrance, all I could do was stare at that sliver of light, wondering to myself what it led to. I swore that I could hear things, but it wasn't one of those sounds you could hear with your ears; it was the type of noise that one could only perceive in their mind, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself following it.

"Mercedes? What are you doing out so late?"

The noises had led me straight back to the garden that I had spent all afternoon hunting in and my father—of all people—stood dead in the center of it. I froze, afraid that he might be mad at me for staying out past curfew.

Instead of scolding me, however, he smiled gently and held up a small bowl of food, which he set down onto the ground. Motioning for me to follow him, he led me to a nearby bench and we sat down together, him scooping me up into his arms and allowing me to sit on his lap.

"Father… what are we doing?" I asked curiously.

"Your teacher told me about what happened today," he spoke softly, rubbing my arms up and down as I shivered suddenly from the nightly chill. "I heard you got every single Slime but one, so I decided to come out here and help you finish the job."

I bowed my head low, ears drooping in shame. Not only had the teacher told him about my failure, but now my father was out here finishing the task that I had been too weak and unskilled to finish. He was the King of Elves for Goddess' sake! How humiliated he must have felt, having me for a daughter…

As if sensing my distress, he pressed a tender kiss against my cheek and hugged me tighter; I could only wrinkle my nose and giggle as his rough beard brushed against the smooth skin of my face.

Suddenly, there was an unexpected movement from the bush across from us and we sat still, waiting for the hidden creature to reveal itself. I waited on bated breath, anticipating the first, blubbery green sighting of the rogue Slime, only to gasp in surprise when a Unicorn foal emerged from the shrubbery instead.

"F-father… that's a unicorn!" I gasped quietly. "How did you know…?"

My father chuckled quietly as we watched it approach the bowl of food from a distance, placing another kiss against my cheek. "I didn't," he replied, smiling. "I set the food down to lure in the Slime, but it looks like Unicorns have a taste for Elven berries as well."

"You did a good job today Mercedes," he went on, as we continued to observe the young foal. "I'm so proud of you. Even after everyone told you to come back inside, you kept on hunting. You knew that something was still out here. Maybe it wasn't exactly a Slime, but it was definitely something. No matter what, never let anyone tell you that you can't do something."

I never did find that Slime. But looking back, I realize that maybe I had gotten something even better.

* * *

"Hey, sleepyhead, wake up."

"Mm… no, go away," I mumbled groggily, fighting off the rough hand that shook my shoulder.

"C'mon lazy ass, get your butt up!"

"Uggghhh…" I groaned tiredly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes—wait a minute! I fell asleep? My eyes shot open, vision blurring for several seconds before the image of a curious Aran came into view, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

"What are you two doing on the floor?" he asked, looking between me and the still sleeping Evan.

"What are we doing on the floor? What… are we doing… on the _floor_?" I asked, jaw clenching tightly.

Do not grind teeth. Do not grind teeth. Do not grind—oh to hell with it!

"You idiot!" I cried, leaping to my feet and smacking him across the head. "We're out here because _you_ decided to run off! We found your note and left to go after you, but you were already gone. When we came back to the room, the door had locked behind us and we left the key inside."

"Ow, get off me!" whined Aran, shielding his head with his arms. "I'm sorry, okay? That's why I came back! I felt bad about leaving…"

Sighing, I rolled my eyes and backed off, crossing my arms over my chest in order to hinder any lingering temptation to hit him again. "It doesn't matter now if you came back or not," I said, scowling. "We're already locked out and the staff doesn't start their day for another hour or two."

Aran looked at the door and twisted the handle a few times before leaning against it, as if testing the weight.

"Don't worry, I've got it," he said, and for a second, I thought that he was going to knock the door down. Instead, however, he reached into his traveling pouch and pulled out a plastic monster card before slipping it between the frame and door.

My stomach sank as I realized what he was doing. Could it really have been that simple?

Aran's eyes locked with mine as he wiggled the card around, smiling at the obviously dumbstruck expression on my face. "Don't tell me something as simple as a door got in the way of Ms. High-and-Mighty," he teased, though the look on his face quickly softened. "Don't let a locked door stop you Mercedes…"

I nearly cried.

"… There's always a way through. If one way doesn't work, try another."

There was a small click… and the door swung open.

* * *

**A/N:** I never played my Mercedes beyond lvl 70, but the initial cut-scene with her at the gates screaming "LEVEL 10!" inspired this, as well as a certain someone (who should know who they are - as horribly written as this was, hopefully you got what I was trying to say). I like this story, but at the same time I don't. It's love and hate at the moment, but I guess as the author, I'm always my worst critic. Read and enjoy before I decided to delete yet another story of mine lol.


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